enough is as good as a feast

Awake At Night

Late in the night I paythe unrest I ownto the life that has never livedand cannot live now.What the world could beis my good dreamand my agony when, dreaming it,I lie awake and turnand look into the dark.I think of a luxuryin the sturdiness and graceof necessary things, notin frivolity. That would healthe earth, and heal men.But the end, too, is partof the pattern, the lastlabor of the heart:to learn to lie still,one with the earthagain, and let the world go.